


Lord Winchester's Ward

by magicalmuser



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bottom Castiel, Historical Fantasy, Kid Destiel, Lord Dean Winchester, M/M, Minor Character Death, Prince Castiel, References to Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalmuser/pseuds/magicalmuser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Castiel of Angels of the Host is sent off to be a ward to Lord John Winchester, and in time he is to be married to the Winchester heir, Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my main tumblr at magical-muser.tumblr.com
> 
> This first part was originally posted as a one-shot, but was later expanded on in a coda and the rest is currently being written.

Castiel fidgeted with his overcoat, the hot sun overhead making him sweat underneath all the layers he wore and even his horse glistened with a thin layer of sweat. For once he was glad to be at the head of the small group of riders, the horses did not pick up as much dirt this way.

“How much further?” Castiel asked impatiently of his Aunt riding beside him.

His Aunt Hester took in his travel worn appearance before answering, “Not much longer, young prince. The Winchester castle should be coming into view soon, you’ll have plenty of time to rest once you’ve settled in.”

She smiled at him, but Castiel could only return a grimace. They had been traveling for five days now, the going slow because his escort insisted on stopping every few hours. At first Castiel had been thankful for those delays, anything to keep from getting to their final destination. But now, the saddle sores and heat made him just want to stop and never get on another horse in his life again. He was anxious to reach his destination, even if it meant that he was likely to never see his family again.

The thought made him angry and sad all at once. His older brothers had decided to marry him off at the unripe age of twelve. Though Michael was the eldest of the Angels and rightful King of the Hosts, he shared guardianship over all the Angel children with Gabriel and Raphael, the three of them having been born in quick succession of each other. His older sister, Anna, four years his senior, had been married off to a Lord Milton in the north just one year ago, and Castiel had not seen her since the wedding. And now he was being sent off to be a ward to Lord Winchester in the south with the intention that he be married to the Winchester heir when the two became of age.

Castiel had had no say in it, his brothers taking every chance of reminding of his duty as a younger son. His duty was to marry well, to marry with the interests of the crown in mind. He was a merely a pawn for his brother, the King, to use, no more than a bartering chip to protect the shaky hold the Angels had on the realm. Gabriel himself had married the exotic Kali from the nation across the seas, a union that had opened up the trade routes of the sea and brought general wealth and prosperity that touched even the lowest class of beggars. Castiel’s betrothal would not be so impactful, but still it would serve a purpose, to ally the interests of Lord Winchester to the interests of the crown, and this arrangement was insurance for the agreement.

Yet Castiel despaired. He did not know these Winchesters, even if Michael claimed that they had been frequent visitors to the castle for the annual Harvest tournament and that Lord Winchester often placed well in the sword competitions. But Castiel had never seen them, if he had then he’d never noticed them, and he cared little for the lesser lord and the family that would some day be his own. Castiel had once entertained hopes of marrying a handsome knight who’d whisk him off his feet and save him from his fate of being born a younger son. But that was before, when Anna still snuck into his chambers under the cover of night to whisper stories of valiant knights and the maidens they rescued. Before she, too, had been married off for the interest of the crown.

Castiel was broken out of his sulk when his Aunt Hester spoke, “There! See it there, the highest tower of Winchester Hall.”

He looked to where she was pointing and could see the tower turret slowly come into view around the bend of the mountain at which base the castle was tucked against. They were here, and soon Castiel would meet the boy who was to be his husband and the halls and corridors that he would one day call his own. 

 

When they finally reached the castle, Castiel was surprised to find that there was no small town haphazardly surrounding it, yet various guards and archers were posted at intervals along the castle walls that stood strong and imposing. With the Angel house banners raised, they waited patiently for the portcullis to be raised before they were ushered into the open courtyard of the castle where several knights and lesser guards with spears were gathered to welcome them.

An older man stepped forward, but his dress lacked the décor that would signify his station as Lord, and addressed them, “Lord Winchester grants a most gracious welcome to Prince Castiel and his escort. He bids you settle in and wash away the weariness of travel before dinner.”

They dismounted their horses before they were shown their quarters, their escort and the horses taken away to their own servant hall and stables. The rooms were large and well furnished, a water basin and washcloths had been laid out for them, their belongings brought to them as well. Castiel knew that these were temporary quarters for him, he would later be moved into a more permanent chamber in the Winchester family hall, once he was officially made a ward to Lord Winchester. For now he minded his Aunt while she rushed him to change out of his traveling clothes and into a blue tunic and trousers that were held up with a gold trimmed belt. Over this he wore a light overcoat that bore the Angel House sigil, an elaborately embroidered set of pale, white wings with a gold crown at the center.

Then it was time for them to meet the Lord of Winchester and his family. A pair of guards escorted them to the Great Hall where their entrance was announced. “Prince Castiel of the Angels of the Host, and Lady Hester.”

A dark haired man of about forty rose from his seat at the center of the hall, his arms outstretched in welcome as he approached them. “Welcome, forgive me for not meeting you earlier, I hope you do not take slight that I had my Master of Arms greet you at your arrival.”

Castiel and his Aunt accepted his apologies, before Castiel allowed himself to observe the people as they were introduced to him. He knew his job now was to let his Aunt handle the formalities of the whole ordeal, he need only bow and smile graciously at the appropriate intervals. The Master of Arms was introduced as Sir Robert Singer, he had once been a knight and now he trained the knights and soldiers under Lord Winchester's banner. His wife, Ellen of Harvelle, held the position of primary guardian for the Winchester sons. Castiel had been acquainted with the fate of the late Lady Winchester, who had died shortly after the birth of her second son.

Sam Winchester, the second of Winchester sons, was a small mousy boy of eight, who had a head of dark brown hair and looked like Lord Winchester. There was also a younger toddler of about four, Adam, a bastard son who had been recognized by Lord Winchester and brought in to later be a page to the Winchester heir.

Castiel paid special attention when Dean, the eldest son and heir to the title and castle of Lord Winchester and his betrothed, was introduced. He was a boy of twelve, taller than Castiel but of a stockier build. The first thing Castiel noticed about him were his bright green eyes that seemed to take all the light from the hall and reflect it back tenfold. He had freckles all across the bridge of his nose, no doubt from time spent in the sun, and his closely cropped hair was so light that the brown almost looked gold. Castiel could not help but blush as Dean, sized him up. It seemed that Castiel had not been the only one filled with apprehension for this meeting.

Soon Castiel found himself seated at a table for the start of the welcoming feast. To his right sat Dean, with Sam and Adam seated across from them. As the first dishes were being served Castiel was thankful that they were dishes he recognized, and he made an attempt at small talk.

“I am sorry to hear about the late Lady Winchester and–” but Castiel was not allowed to finish before he was cut off by Dean.

“My mother did her duty and bore his Lordship two strong sons,” Dean said, his voice clipped as he glared at Castiel before turning a more comforting look to the younger Winchester, who Castiel now saw had ducked his head.

“I didn’t mean–”

“Yeah, well don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about.”

But Castiel more than knew about that. As a younger son it would be his duty to bear his husband strong sons to carry on his bloodline and inherit his title and lands. He frowned and turned away from Dean, deciding that he did not care much for the Winchester heir, even if said heir was to one day be his husband. Castiel was a prince and he deserved some respect. He told Dean as much.

This brought a small giggle from Sam, and it was Dean’s turn to frown.

“Well you’re going to be my father’s ward, and you’ll have to respect me, too. Especially once we’re married, you’ll have to do whatever I say.”

“That won’t be for another four years, who knows, maybe by then I’ll be taller and stronger than you, and you won’t be able to make me do anything I don’t want to do,” Castiel said, though he could not see why the Winchester heir was in such a rush to grow up. Frankly, Castiel would stop growing now if he could, who knew what other duties would be bestowed on him in the four years to come.

“But by then I’ll have been trained by Master Bobby, and I’ll be the best swordsman in the south, and I’ll compete in all the tournaments and win. Besides, Father says I’ll get my real sword once I turn three and ten next month. I bet you wouldn’t even be able to lift it, your arms are so scrawny, like Sammy’s,” Dean said, sticking his tongue out at Sam at the end.

Castiel was not one to turn down a challenge, and they made a pact to find out who wielded a sword better after dinner.

 

The four boys made their way to a smaller courtyard where a few soldiers were training with blunt swords that were still hefty enough to leave a bruise. At the sight of the young Winchesters and the prince, they bowed before moving out of the way.

It wasn’t until Dean handed Castiel a sword that Castiel wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Back at Angel castle he had never been trained with a sword, he was a younger son and not expected to know how to wield a sword; he would have his own knights and husband to bear arms for him. But when he looked at Dean, holding his own sword and in battle ready stance, eyes bright with excitement, Castiel gripped his sword tightly and went for the attack.

Before Castiel knew what happened he was on his back, with the point of Dean’s blunt sword gently held at his neck, Dean looking down at him with an impossibly wide grin on his face.

“You’ve never held a sword in your life, have you?”

Castiel had the decency to blush before shaking his head. Dean laughed, threw his sword to the side, and gave Castiel a hand to help him up. Castiel brushed the dirt from his trousers, the back of his shirt undoubtedly soiled.

“We’ll make sure to train you up, Cas, after all, I won’t always be there to protect you,” Dean smiled, before putting an arm around Castiel’s shoulders as they made their way back to the Great Hall.

And in that moment, Castiel was beginning to see that maybe he would not mind being betrothed to Dean, heir to Lord Winchester, who wanted only to grow up so that he might be strong enough to protect those around him.

 

**Five years later**

“Come on! Is that all you’ve got?”

Castiel lunged, his sword clashing with his opponent’s sword. But he stepped back quickly and dodged the swing of the sword, his lean form giving him the speed that his opponent lacked.

“Oh, I’ve got much more!” Castiel replied, ducking once more, but what his opponent lacked in speed he made up with in skill and experience, and Castiel found one foot swept out from under him. He was brought to one knee, and was ready to block his opponent’s winning blow before a voice called out.

“Lord Winchester, please, you’ll both be late.” It was Adam, now a boy of nine, and a page almost fully trained.

Dean stopped, lowering his sword and turning away from Cas. “How can we be late? They can’t start without both of us.”

Castiel took advantage of the distraction and very quickly stood, sweeping Dean’s feet out from under him and he let out a grunt in a surprise as his back hit the ground.

“I win,” Castiel smiled, throwing his sword to the side, using his body to pin Dean to the ground before leaning down to kiss him.

“You cheated,” Dean smiled once they broke the kiss, his hands coming to a rest at Castiel’s hips.

“Your Lordships, please,” Adam pleaded from where he stood.

“Alright, alright, we’ll be there, don’t get your smallclothes in a bunch,” Dean yelled back, watching Adam throw his hands up in the air and walk away, before turning his attention back to his betrothed. “What do you say, Cas, are you ready to go get married? Ready to be a Winchester?”

Castiel smiled down at Dean, wiping the sweat of his brow only to leave a smear of dirt there. They both needed a bath, desperately. “Married to a incorrigible brute like you?” He leaned down to kiss Dean once more, pulling away before Dean had a chance to deepen the kiss. There would be more time for that and much more later.

“You know you like what you see,” Dean said as Castiel climbed off him and helped him to his feet, their hands lingering as they helped each other brush off dirt from their clothes. “You know I clean up pretty.”

“I do know, and you should also know that you’d better hurry to make yourself as handsome as possible, I don’t want to wait any longer to call you my husband.”

“As you say, my prince,” Dean said, bowing ridiculously low, before he scooped Cas up in his arms and kissing him once more. Then again, maybe they had a little more time to spare, after all, they’d already waited five years, what were five more minutes?


	2. Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short coda that takes place during the 5 years gap of chapter 1.

They had been making their way back from the Roadhouse, when, spying the highest Winchester castle turret, Dean had engaged Castiel and Sam in a race. 

Castiel and Sam had looked at each other, before urging their horses into a gallop, momentarily leaving Dean behind, but the eldest Winchester soon caught up to and passed them.

Though their horses were equally matched, Dean had been riding his mare since he’d first learned how to ride, and the trust they had in each other gave him an unfair advantage. Castiel spurred his own gelding on, but there was still some restraint, as he’d only been riding for about a year. Sam, who had spent more time on a horse than Castiel, was his true opponent.

Their horses picked up clouds of dust, but Castiel coughed through it as they made the final turn that would bring them to the castle portcullis.

 

“I win!” Dean declared, reigning in his mare and turning to face his companions as they approached.

“That’s no fair, Impala trusts you,” Sam said, wiping his face with the end of his shirt. 

Dean smirked, patting her on the side of her neck, “They’re just jealous, baby, don’t listen to them.”

The gate was raised and they made to the stables, dismounting and handing their horses over to the stable hands.

Castiel watched Dean as they made their way back to the main courtyard. At fourteen, Dean was beginning to show the traces of manhood that promised to fill out with the years. Always stocky, his shoulders were growing broader, his waist tapering before swelling to the thick thighs of a person who had spent many a day on the back of a horse.

Castiel, five months Dean’s junior, still had his thin figure of boyhood, though his voice was beginning to crack, and Dean often teased him for it. They both had grown several inches since Castiel’s first coming as a ward to Lord Winchester, but Sam had grown several more inches and was soon to catch up to them, even if he was only ten.

They were more than halfway across the courtyard when a stern voice made the trio turn. It was Ellen.

“Where have you been?” Anger and desperation filled her voice, and if their faces hadn’t been covered with a rather impressive layer of dirt, they would have paled.

“We–uh...” Dean began.

“Dean and Sam were showing me the Roadhouse,” Castiel spoke up; he knew he would be less likely to get punished if he took blame for their little excursion.

“Without an escort? Do you boys know what could have–” but Ellen could not finish the sentence, “You boys best get cleaned up before dinner, or Lord Winchester will hear about this.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean replied, hurrying off with Castiel and Sam close on his heels. They separated into their respective chambers, where tepid water was awaiting them. It would have been warmer had they not gone off wandering, and Castiel took the slight punishment in stride.

He watched as the water slowly took on a murkier color, the dirt from the road washing off his skin. Castiel looked at his skin, now tanned from spending so much time in the sun with Dean, who instead of tanning, freckled.

Once he finished he changed into comfortable clothes and attempted to flatten his hair that stuck out in every direction. He gave up and moved to his bed, picking up a novel he was almost finished with, before settling at the center of his bed. Before he could open the book there was a knock on his chamber door, and Castiel rose to open it. Dean was on the other side, his hair wet from his own bath.

“Hey, Cas, can I come in?”

“Of course,” Castiel moved to let Dean in, who closed the door behind him, and joined Castiel on his bed. Castiel sat cross-legged, but Dean lay on his back, positions they had often found themselves in on nights when Dean couldn’t sleep and he wandered into Castiel’s room where Castiel read to him from whatever novel he was reading lately.

“Thanks for taking the blame back there, with Ellen, I owe you one.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel said, taking Dean’s hand in his own, hoping to offer him some comfort.

“And, back there, at the Roadhouse, I’m sorry about Lisa,” Dean said regretfully, looking at where their hands were linked.

“So Joanna was telling the truth?”

Dean nodded, blushing. Castiel felt his stomach clench up with jealousy before he pulled his hand away.

“It was a long time ago though! Before I met you, before I even knew your name,” Dean said quickly, trying to reach for Castiel’s hand, but Castiel clasped them in his lap, the memory of their brief visit to the Roadhouse coming back to him.

 

Their small trip had been unplanned, in truth the guards had let them out without an escort because they had agreed to stay within view of the castle. But when Castiel had shown interest in seeing the Roadhouse, of which Dean had spoken so much, Dean had agreed to take them there. Sam had been reluctant, but Dean had calmed his fears by unsheathing his sword from its scabbard, a gleaming steel thing that had looked imposing in the afternoon sun.

The three had ridden off at a steady trot, their conversation made up mostly of Dean pointing out landmarks to Castiel as they traveled on the road that Castiel suspected Dean was very familiar with. He wondered how often the Winchester heir had traveled to the Roadhouse, and what allure awaited them there.

When they had arrived at the Roadhouse, a modest inn owned by Ellen of Harvelle, Castiel followed Dean and Sam who walked in with all the familiarity of people who knew their arrival would be welcomed.

True enough they were greeted by someone of the name of “Ash” who wore a rather peculiar haircut, and brought them drinks at a small table in the corner, leaving them with the promise of finding “Jo” for them.

Castiel could scarcely see the appeal of such a place, though the few patrons of the inn bowed their heads to the boys as they passed, but they were otherwise left to their own business.

“Jo is Ellen’s daughter, of her late husband,” Sam clarified for Castiel, and he nodded appreciatively. Oftentimes Castiel found himself out of the loop, especially when Dean would rattle on about places and people under his father’s banner, but Sam was really helpful.

“You’re more freckled than the last time I laid eyes on you, Dean Winchester. If you don’t stay out of the sun more you’ll become one giant freckle.” 

The three looked up as a girl about Dean and Castiel’s age approached them, wiping her hands on an apron before removing it altogether. She took the seat between Dean and Sam. Up close, Castiel saw that she was very pretty, and he easily found the resemblance to her mother.

Dean glared at her, “You shut your mouth, Joanna-Beth.”

“Don’t call me that!” the young girl made to hit Dean with her fists, but he held her wrists at a distance easily.

“You’re just mad because you’ll never be a knight,” Dean taunted, releasing one wrist to poke her side.

Castiel watched with amusement even while Sam rolled his eyes. He guessed that she might have spent some time at Winchester castle, time enough to allow her to become almost a little sister to Dean, if his annoyance at her teasing were anything to go by.

“And you’re just mad because Lisa will never want to kiss your freckled face again,” she said, struggling in Dean’s grip, but at this Dean let Jo go, and the girl crossed her arms in smug satisfaction.

“Who’s Lisa?” Castiel asked, trying for nonchalance but probably failing. Dean glanced quickly at him, but didn’t hold his gaze.

“Lisa is the baker’s daughter, from down the road,” Jo happily supplied and the same time that Dean said, “She’s no one.”

“Dean likes her,” Jo said in a singsong voice that made Sam laugh. 

“Do not,” Dean said, the color high in his cheeks. 

“If you don’t like her then why did you kiss her?” Jo continued to taunt, and she struggled as Dean tried to cover her mouth with his hand.

“If you don’t shut up we’re leaving!” Dean said, glancing helplessly at Sam who just shrugged.

“Go on then, see what I care about the Winchesters in their castle,” Jo said, sticking her tongue out and getting to her feet.

“Come on,” Dean said, getting to his feet and following Jo out the door.

Castiel scarcely remembered what had happened from there, their trip back to Winchester castle had been filled with silence until Dean had challenged them to the race.

 

Castiel could feel his throat tighten, and the corners of his eyes began to sting. He wanted to be the only one to kiss Dean. Dean was his betrothed, and if there was anyone Dean should be kissing, it was Castiel. Not that Castiel wanted Dean to kiss him, but if the opportunity arose, well, they were betrothed.

“But it’s not like you’ve never kissed anyone, right?” Dean said, leaning up on one elbow to face Castiel.

It was Castiel’s turn to blush, because, no, he had never actually kissed anyone. “I’ve–I’ve never had occasion,” he admitted.

“Really?” Dean said, eagerness in his voice as he sat up, mimicking Castiel as he crossed his legs underneath him. “You’ve never been kissed?" 

Castiel felt his face getting hotter, “No, I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“I can’t believe this,” Dean said, smiling, though Castiel could find no mirth in this situation.

“We can’t all be like you, Dean, kissing every girl that asks for it,” Castiel said, ducking his face in shame and confusion.

But Dean ignored this jibe, and instead placed a hand on Castiel’s cheek, making Castiel meet his eyes. “I don’t want to kiss any other girls.”

Castiel licked his lips, Dean’s gaze dropping slightly before their eyes met again. “You don’t?”

“Nope, there’s only one person I should be kissing,” Dean said, moving his face close to Castiel’s so that Castiel could feel his next words on his lips, “And that person is you, if you’ll have me.”

Castiel could scarce answer, so he did the next best thing and closed the distance between their lips. The kiss was clumsy at first, with Castiel’s inexperience and eagerness, but then Dean brought his other hand to hold Castiel’s face still while he kissed him in earnest, guiding their lips. Castiel’s hands found their way to the front of Dean’s shirt, trying to hold on to anything so that he did not float away with the elation that filled him. 

Dean’s lips were soft against his, and Castiel never wanted to stop feeling them. But they needed to breathe, and when Dean finally pulled away he let their foreheads rest against each other. 

“How’s that for occasion?” Dean whispered, and Castiel couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled Dean in for another kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

They began their journey three days after the wedding.

Castiel’s family had been unable to make it down to the southern lands for the wedding that would unite Prince Castiel of the Angels and the young Lord Winchester. Instead, Castiel’s older brothers, the King of the Host and Princes of the Angels, had extended an invitation for the newly weds to return to Angel castle for a feast and tournament to be held in their honor.

“But why can’t I go?” Sam asked, Dean and Cas astride their horses, the rest of their escort and guard assembled and ready to begin the journey north.

“The road are dangerous, and you’re place is here, to be Lord in my stead while I am gone,” Dean explained with all the forbearance of having answered this question a thousand times before.

“Adam gets to go, and he’s not even three and ten like me,” Sam muttered petulantly, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Adam is my page, his place is with me, and as my heir, your place is here,” Dean said, before pulling at Impala’s reins and moving to the front of the escort.

“Trust us, Sam, we’ll be back before you know it,” Cas said in an attempt to soothe the young boy, Sam only nodded before Castiel turned his horse and followed Dean. He didn’t quite understand why Sam wasn’t allowed to go either, but Bobby had managed to persuade Dean. At any rate, Dean had promised Sam that they would all spend the summer in their cottage by the sea as they had often done when they were kids before Cas’ arrival.

When they were well on their way Dean and Cas spent the first few hours of the journey listening to Bobby tell them of the lands they were traveling through. That first night, when they’d set up their tents and camp, Castiel couldn’t help but worry.

It had been more than five years since he’d last seen his family. He had changed so much since then. Physically he was taller and lithe, not quite as broad at the shoulders like Dean was. His skin was darker, tanned from many hours spent in the sun on the back of a horse. And he even boasted the shadow of a beard when he did not shave his face for a few weeks.

But he had changed in so many more ways that were not physical. Now he was a Winchester. Even if he was a Prince of the Angels it had been many months since he had even thought about his family with the same longing that he had when he had first arrived to be a ward to Lord Winchester. And even that had changed; Castiel was no longer a ward to Lord Winchester, rather his husband. Dean had assumed the title when his father had passed away a little over a year ago. The passing of the late Lord Winchester had delayed the union between Dean and Castiel, propriety and respect demanding they observe at least a year of mourning.

In that interim, when Cas had mourned the loss with Dean, he had also mourned a loss of his own. When news had reached him that Gabriel and Kali had welcomed twins– a boy and a girl– into the world Castiel had found it difficult to find any real joy in it. He had instead lamented the fact that he had a nephew and niece who would grow up to be strangers to him, that he would soon be forgotten in his homeland among even his own family.

That thought was with him even now.

X

“Is everything alright, Cas?” Cas was broken out of his thoughts with Dean’s entrance to their tent.

“I–,” Cas faltered before he shook his head.

“Anything I can do to help?” Dean asked, finally moving onto the bed so that he might reach out and hold Cas’ hand.

Cas held on tight, his hand running over the ring he had given Dean as a wedding gift, much like the bracelet Dean had given him in return.

“You’re presence is comfort enough,” Cas said, bringing their joined hands to his lips so that he could kiss Dean’s knuckles.

“You’re nervous about this whole trip, aren’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Dean cupped Cas’ cheek, “To me it is, and I’d like to think that I know you best of anyone.”

“And I you,” Cas said, tugging Dean closer so that he might lay his head against Dean’s chest. Dean scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Cas, kissing the top of his head before speaking, his voice muffled by Cas’ hair.

“If I can be entirely honest, I’m nervous, too.”

“What a pair we make,” Cas said with a smile; just being close to Dean like this had cheered him significantly.

“I think we make a good pair, me with the brawn, you with the brains.”

“You’re more than just that, and I am, too.”

“This is why I keep you around,” Dean said, tugging them both down so that Cas lay on his back, Dean looming over him. “I love you, Cas.”

Cas couldn’t help but smile, the words never failing to fill his stomach with butterflies, “I love you, too, Dean, more than anything.”

Their lips met, the kisses deepening as Dean moved to fully stretch out above Cas, taking care not to put his whole weight on the younger man. Their hands explored what skin was in reach before Cas broke their kiss in exasperation and began to pull and tug at Dean’s small clothes until he had divested Dean of them completely. Dean pulled at Cas until they were both seated, his hands found the bottom of the long shirt Cas wore, exposing his naked skin underneath, and a smile overspread Dean’s face as he took in Cas’ naked body appreciatively.

Castiel blushed. It wasn’t that Castiel felt shy about being naked in Dean’s presence. They had seen each other like that long before they had explored the more physical aspects of their budding relationship. It had been quite some time between the time they discovered the wants of their own bodies and how to satisfy them before they thought to seek satisfaction in each other. They had spent many a night under the duvet of each other’s beds, stifling their groans so that they might not be heard, and laying sweaty in each other’s arms after they had found completion with each other’s hands and mouths.

Castiel blushed now because what walls they had now were canvas walls of a tent, and he knew there was a guard outside who would not have to reach far into his imagination to figure what the Lords of Winchester were doing.

But all that was forgotten when Dean pushed him back once more and kissed him passionately, his hand finding Castiel’s arousal. Cas gasped, the sensation novel to him every time, but as addicting as ever.

“Dean, please,” Cas whimpered, his hands going to Dean’s shoulders as Dean’s mouth found its way to his neck.

“What do you want me to do?” Dean said between kisses.

“Don’t–” an intake of breath, “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Dean promised, his lips meeting Cas’ once more, his tongue finding the inside of Cas’ mouth every time Cas gasped. It wasn’t long before Cas’ hips were thrusting into the tight grip of Dean’s hand, his breaths coming in short gasps, his hands holding Dean tight to him.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Dean said, his gaze focused on Castiel’s face as Cas came with a shudder, his seed leaving their bellies sticky, his chest heaving.

“Shall I?” Cas said once his breath had returned to him, but Dean stopped the course of his hand.

Dean shook his head. “I just want to hold you tonight, if that’s okay?”

Cas nodded, taking one of their discarded smallclothes and using it to wipe them both clean, before he tossed it into a corner. They arranged themselves so that Dean could cradle Cas in his arms. Cas was quickly lulled to sleep by the steady sound of Dean breathing; his last thought was how he would not mind falling asleep like this for the rest of their lives. 

X

The next morning Cas woke tucked against Dean’s back, his arms wrapped around Dean’s middle, his face buried in the back of Dean’s neck. They had not been married a week and already Cas felt a sense of familiarity in this, of waking up in the mornings to Dean. He began to press kisses to Dean’s nape, slowly kissing a path to Dean’s shoulder, knowing that Dean would wake and they could then address the state of their bodies in the mornings.

Dean groaned contentedly.

“Good morning,” Cas said as Dean turned so that he was on his back.

“A good morning, indeed,” Dean said, smiling up at Cas, sleep slowly leaving him.

“As much as I’d enjoy just laying here with you, I think we could spend our time more efficiently this morning before we must be on our way,” Cas said suggestively.

“You’re insatiable,” Dean smiled as Cas’ hand slowly made its way south.

“You made me this way,” Cas said, slowly stroking Dean, feeling the flesh harden under his ministrations.

Dean groaned, throwing his head back, as Castiel continued to stroke him.

“Cas, Cas, I’m–”

Dean’s body convulsed before he striped his belly with his seed as Castiel continued to stroke him, until Dean reached down to hold Cas’ hand in his own.

“You next,” Dean panted, only just coming down from his high.

“Hmm,” Cas hummed as Dean began to kiss his way down his chest, his hands gripping Cas’ hips, holding him in place before Cas felt the wet heat of Dean’s mouth on him.

“Dean,” Cas whined, tugging at Dean’s hair. He never lasted long when they did this.

Dean mouthed at him one more time before he retraced his kisses back up Cas’ chest and up to his mouth. Castiel felt Dean’s hardness along his inner thigh, and he spread his legs so that Dean could move between them. Dean positioned himself so that he could take them both in hand, the sensation of their most sensitive skin on each other bringing them over the edge quickly. 

X

“There are nearly twice as many men than when I first came to you,” Castiel noted as they rode on later that day. His journey to the south as a child was still very vivid in his mind, and he searched for any similarities in the journey. The number of men in their guard stood out notably.

There were ten men in the forward guard, with five out as advanced scouts. Twenty men accompanied their main escort of servants, not including Bobby who was Dean and Castiel’s personal guard. Twenty more men formed the rear guard, and at nights they spread out to form a perimeter around the camp.

“That was then, this is now,” was Bobby’s gruff answer.

Castiel frowned, but Dean spoke next, “It’s just an added precaution, we’re not familiar with these roads and don’t want to be caught unaware.”

“Caught unaware by what?” Cas asked his interest now piqued. Did Dean think they were in danger on the road?

Dean looked at Bobby before answering, “Nothing, just, you can never be too careful when escorting a prince.”

“Would you have taken the same precaution had I just been your husband, and not the as prince?” Cas said.

Dean laughed at that, “Of course I would. There’s nothing to worry about, trust me. We’ll get to the Angel castle in a few days time and all this will be forgotten.”

But even that was not as comforting as it should have been, and that night, when Dean held him in his arms, Castiel could not stop wondering what it was that he didn’t know about this trip. And more importantly, why Dean and Bobby felt the need to conceal it from him.


End file.
